Take Three
by Channel D
Summary: His 5th Valentines Day at NCIS has crept up on Tim, and it's the 3rd year in a row that finds him stressed out. His love for Abby is unrequited. Or is it really? Written for the NFA Writing Skills romance challenge. McAbby, of course. Oneshot.


**Take Three  
**by channelD

_written:_ for the NFA Skills Challenge, _Romance  
__rating:_ K  
_genre:_ romance  
_pairing:_ McAbby

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_disclaimer:_ I continue to own nothing of NCIS

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**Tim**

When he saw the date on his computer monitor that morning, Tim clapped his hands to his head in astonishment and horror. _No!! February 14—it can't be! _But of course, the computer clock could not be wrong. All it knew was that February 14 came after February 13—which had been yesterday, Tim now remembered with a sour taste. _How could I have missed that??!!_

This wasn't the comical _guy-forgets-Valentine's-Day-is-coming-and-scrambles-to-get-something-nice-for-his-girl_ situation. Tim didn't _have_ a girl. What he had was Abby tattooed on his brain; Abby, the woman he'd been infatuated with ever since he'd first heard her voice. Four years ago. A relationship had flowered, and then soon withered. Abby hadn't wanted a commitment.

On the Valentine's Day of his first year in the Navy Yard, when he'd been in Washington just a few months, he and Kate had spent all day in Virginia, trying to find a suspect in a murder case. They'd returned to NCIS late, and Abby had already gone home. Tim called the exotic new restaurant and canceled the dinner reservation. He'd hoped to surprise Abby with it, but now…

The following year, Tim was prepared with an expensive bouquet of gorgeous flowers imported from Hawaii. His father always made a similar gift to Tim's mother on Valentine's Day, and she always loved it. Tim knew nothing about flowers, but to him, these looked pretty. And then, before he could give the flowers to Abby, Tim saw person after person carrying bouquets of those weird black roses for her. Tim hurriedly stuffed the Hawaiian flowers into a bag, and dropped it into the trash.

Tim approached the third Valentine's Day with no prepared gift, but lots of trepidation. The relationship he'd had with Abby had cooled, and he didn't know how to face this day that meant so much to women. By 9:30 a.m. he had chewed his 10th antacid to deal with his flip-flopping stomach, and then gave up and turned in a slip for sick leave to Gibbs. He went home and watched soap operas on TV; comparing his pain to the characters'.

For the fourth Valentine's Day, he now knew better, and so called in sick.

And that was what he had planned to do for this Valentine's Day; decided months in advance. Had he not been caught up in writing his current book (and developing an outline for the next), he'd have noticed the holiday creeping up. But he didn't, and now he was trapped at work. Trapped, and likely to run into Abby at some point today, and his heart, now four years older than when he'd first met her, would surely pop like a tired, over-filled balloon, and he would die. This was year three since he'd actively started avoiding Abby, and he would try to continue to do so today. Despite people exchanging candy and cards around him. Despite the ache in his head and the crater in his heart.

_Valentine's Day isn't just for lovers. They're the winners in the war__. But the losers in love, like me, __are also affected.__ We just don't get the publicity._

Around 10 a.m. Gibbs came over to his desk. "You look like hell on a stick. Go home," he said, handing him an already filled-out sick leave slip to sign.

Tim gratefully signed it, wondering if Gibbs had remembered that he'd been "sick" the previous two Valentines' Days, or had any idea why. _No point in asking; just go! _Putting on his coat and getting his sig from his drawer, he was out the building in moments.

- - - - -

**Abby**

Two years ago, Abby had come up with a little Valentines' Day present for Tim. On his second year there, she'd wondered briefly why he'd had no flowers for her…the fact that everyone gave her black roses amused her; why hadn't he joined in? Had he expected something from her; a symbol or token? She'd treated the holiday as a lark; her coworkers who gave her the black roses weren't in love with her. All they'd wanted was to show their affection. And why was Tim not among them?

She figured that the black roses might be creeping him out, in a way. They had that effect on some people. And so, two years ago, she'd found a little gift that she was sure he'd like, one that also resonated with her heart. Did she love him? She wasn't sure. Maybe. You could love someone and still be afraid of a commitment. But this, this cute little thing, would speak to him, and tell him how she felt. And there would always be hope…

Two years ago, she'd crept up into the squad room. No one was there, other than that new woman, Ziva, who was just leaving behind Tony. The team must be going out on a case. Abby set the little gift on Tim's desk in the shadow of his flat screen monitor, next to his small Slinky. She slipped back down to her lab, confident that Tim would soon be by to say something. He would be smiling; grinning even; and maybe a little bashful. But they would talk. That was the important thing, to start talking again.

But Tim didn't come down to see her, even though she waited and waited and didn't even leave her lab for lunch. Lunch became a chocolate bar from the vending machine and the remainder of a pack of Tic-Tacs from her purse. Around 3 p.m. she went upstairs and casually asked Tony where Tim was. She bit back her surprise on hearing that he'd gone home sick mid-morning. With a little slight-of-hand she palmed the little gift she'd placed on his desk, and went back to her lab, feeling an unfamiliar pain in her heart.

One year ago, after twelve months of random dates with random men, when Valentine's Day neared, she retrieved the little gift she'd gotten for Tim; tenderly stowed in a pouch of purple velvet with gold trim and locked in a lab drawer. Tim was the only one on her mind now; maddening her thoughts and making her feel as giddy as a schoolgirl. The message of the gift was just as clear, and perhaps even more meaningful, than it had been the previous year. She came into work early, before any of the agents arrived, and placed it on Tim's desk in the same location as she had on the last Valentine's Day.

She'd even brought her lunch this time, so she wouldn't have to go out or live on candy bars. When Tim didn't come see her at lunch time, she got concerned. After clearing away the crumbs from her sandwich, she went to the squad room. Gibbs' team was there…all except Tim. The gift was still on his desk. "Where's McGee?" she asked no one in particular; hating herself for referring to him as 'McGee' in that distancing manner.

"Out sick," said Gibbs, with an unreadable expression, before returning to his work.

"Oh." She backed up and bumped into his desk, which was a stroke of luck, because it gave her the opportunity to palm the object again (unnoticed, she hoped). She couldn't just leave it there for him to find the next day; he'd be embarrassed and they'd both flub their lines. Valentine's Day magic was only good for one day a year.

Now this year, she wavered. Should she try again? Had it been too long to rekindle the romance? Abby took the dear object out of her drawer and put it back in several times, before deciding yes, she would do it, after all. She had so looked forward to this day that she had even purchased a new velvet pouch for it, in blue and red, from a gaming shop. And she would leave the object in the pouch this time; prettying it up, in a way.

She got busy in work, though, and didn't make it up to the squad room with the little thing until a little past 11. No one seemed to be around. Good. She set it on Tim's desk in the same place as last year, and went back to her lab, smiling, sure that this year would be the success.

- - - - -

**Tony**

There hadn't been anything on McGee's desk this morning from Abby, Tony had noticed, and he wondered if she'd given up this year. Oh, he knew she was behind it: from two years ago when, after McGee had gone home sick and the rest of the team had gone to Bethesda on a case. Tony noticed things, and he'd noticed the little white object on McGeek's desk when they came back. He'd looked at it, chuckled, and put it back. He could use this ammunition against the geekoid for months!

But then Abby had come back, and, not too skillfully (in a detective's eyes) reclaimed the object. Well, dang. How could he kid McGoo if McGoo hadn't even known about it?

Last year, the Probie hadn't come to work at all on Valentine's Day. Tony was surprised and amused to see the same little thing on McGee's desk on that day. Abby must be serious. Tony let it go. _None of my business._ He noticed again when she retrieved it before the work day was out.

Now here in 2008, McGee had gone home, again, with shot nerves, or Valentine's Day Syndrome, as one of Tony's college buddies called it. When Tony, Ziva, and Gibbs had come back down to the squad room from their meeting with the Director, there was something different on McGee's desk. If it was from Abby, she had missed him by a little less than an hour. But she didn't know that…yet.

Gibbs and Ziva had gone out for coffee. Tony went up to McGee's desk, picked up the velvet pouch, and opened it. Yes; there was the little white bear with a delicate blue sash that read, _Another chance, Valentine?_

Tony gently put the appealing little bear back into the pouch, and made a decision. Instead of returning it to its place under the flat screen monitor, he slipped it into McGee's lowest desk drawer.

Abby came in then, just as Tony had returned to his own desk. He saw her glance go to Tim's desk, and a smile lit her face like a sun when she saw the velvet pouch gone. "Where's Tim?" she asked.

"Gibbs sent him to Alexandria," said Tony, thinking fast. "He'll be gone all day."

"Oh. But he'll be in tomorrow, do you think?"

"I'm sure he will be."

"Great! Thanks, Tony!" She left, beaming.

Tony continued looking indifferent until she had gone, and then he grinned. Logging onto his email, he started to type a message. The Probie lived for his computers, and would doubtless check his email several times a day. _Hey, Tim,_ he typed, changed it to _Hey, McGee,_ and then changed it back_. There's a little something for you from Abby in your bottom drawer. Look surprised and delighted when you see her tomorrow. Tony._

- END -


End file.
